The You That's in Me
by Morning Lilies
Summary: "I'm wierd. And I don't know how not to be." "Why would you ever want to try?" Lorcan Scamander doesn't fit in. Lysander doesn't think that's such a bad thing. Some brotherly assurances for the Best Friends competition take two.


**A/N: This is my first entry for A-Trip-To-Honeydukes' Best Friends competition Take Two. I had Lorcan and Lysander Scamander with the quote 'if only you could see the you that is a part of me, maybe you could see inside yourself'. I really like this quote and actually had something a bit darker that kept coming to me for Lorcan and Lysander with it, but I went with this version of the story instead because I felt it was more in-character for them. And I also wasn't comfortable venturing into darker waters like that… but it might have made the story more powerful… I don't know. Anyway, I hope you like it as it is! **

"Very good work, Mr. Scamander," Professor Mervin said as he handed Lysander his potions essay back. It was the end of class, most people were getting to their feet, swinging bags over their shoulders and chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. "As for you, Mr. Scamander," Mervin went on, turning to Lorcan and handing his essay back with an exasperated air. "I know we've had this discussion before, but _please _stick to real ingredients in your theories."

"Crumble-horned Snorkacks _are _real," Lorcan protested indignantly, looking at the large 'P' scrawled across the top of his essay with dismay. Behind him, his classmates paused to watch the exchange, snickering.

Professor Mervin closed his eyes for a moment, as though scrounging for patience. "Maybe they are. But until we've got some of their horn powder or talons, we cannot be sure of their magical properties and so should not base our theories off of them."

"Alright, we're going to Denmark for Christmas," Lorcan told him, shoving his essay into his bag. "I'll bring you some powdered horn and talons and maybe even a tooth if Mum can swing it."

One of Lysander's friends nudged him in the ribs. "Think you could bring me a couple blibbering humdingers while you're at it?" he whispered through chocked laughter.

"They don't live in Denmark," Lysander told him, raising his eyebrows.

This was too much for his friend, who doubled over with silent laughter.

Professor Mervin clicked his tongue. "Bring me the horn of a crumple-horned Snorkack and I will change your grade accordingly."

The bell rang and as one, the class stampeded for the door.

Lysander caught Lorcan halfway up the stairs. "Hey, Lor. Are you going to eat with us today?"

Lorcan glanced over Lysander's shoulder at his friends, who were still hooting with laughter over the Snorkack incident, and shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I've got too much to do."

He hurried away as Lysander's friends caught up with him.

"Where does he go every mealtime, anyway?" one of the girls asked Lysander, looking after Lorcan curiously.

"Bet he's a vampire," one of the guys said. He pulled his cloak over his head and grabbed the girl around the waist. "I vant to suck your blooood!"

"Shove off, Mickey!"

"He eats lunch up on the seventh floor," Lysander explained. "Our mum said something about that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy last summer and now he thinks there's a secret map hidden it somewhere. He's trying to find it."

"Oh," Mickey said, exchanging looks with the others. "Well, good luck to him, then."

They emerged into the entrance hall in time to see Lorcan disappear up the marble staircase. Lysander paused at the bottom of it, looking up after his brother.

"You coming, Ly?"

"Yeah."

And he hurried after his friends.

XxXxX

Lysander's silver-blond hair shone in the firelight as he threw his head back, laughing with the rest. They sat on the floor before the fire in Ravenclaw Tower, books and papers long-forgotten.

"Ly, my man," Aiden Tropp said, flinging an arm around Lysander's shoulders. "You are a riot."

Lysander grinned. "Laughter adds to your life and my mission is immortality."

He caught sight of Veronica Bayers watching him and flashed her a bright smile. She blushed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Lysander stretched and craned his neck, pale eyes sweeping over the emptying common room. They landed on the far corner and he raised himself off the ground a little to wave.

"Hey, Lorcan! Why don't you quit skulking in the shadows and come hang out?"

Lorcan looked up from the letter he was writing. His own pale eyes roved over the group of kids his brother sat with. A few of them glanced his way and he caught their expressions. None of them looked exactly welcoming.

"He looks busy, Ly," Aiden said.

Lysander waved a dismissive hand. "He's just writing to Mum. He can do that tomorrow. Come on, Lor! Have some human contact for once."

Lorcan hesitated, chewing on the end of his quill. He never knew what to say around Lysander's friends. He didn't know how he and Lysander could be exact doubles of one another, yet he couldn't manage a simple conversation with the people Lysander spent every day with.

Lysander grew impatient before Lorcan could make up his mind. He vaulted over the back of an armchair and pulled Lorcan up by the elbow. "You're going to turn into Rangy Sage if you keep avoiding everyone," he said as he dragged Lorcan over to the group by the fire.

"Who?" Veronica asked, furrowing her eyebrows in a way that made Lysander's cheeks grow warm.

"You know," Lysander explained. "The bloke who built himself a cocoon out of Narggle wings and didn't come out for seven years. He could fly afterwards, of course, but _seven years _of isolation."

He shook his head and the rest laughed.

"That one of your granddad's crazy stories?" Mickey Davis asked, chortling.

"It's not crazy," Lorcan muttered shoving his hands in his pockets.

The group all looked at him. Lysander smiled a little tensely. "Come on, Lor, even you've gotta admit that one's a little far-fetched. Granddad was just roping in business."

Lorcan shrugged. _Mum didn't think so_, he thought, but it was hardly worth arguing over here. He sat down awkwardly on the arm of an empty chair. The group, which had been chattering and laughing amiably a few minutes before fell into an awkward quiet.

"So… that's, erm, an interesting hat you've got, Lorcan," Marie Corner said politely, eyes taking in Lorcan's headgear curiously. It was a mix between a knitted cap and an eagle's beak. There were what looked like dried-out radishes at the end of the strings. Lorcan absent-mindedly lifted a hand to touch the beak and the hat gave a loud squawk and flapped its wings indignantly. Everyone else jumped.

"My mother made it for me. To keep away raxpurts," he explained dreamily.

"Oh. Right," Marie nodded, looking as if she wasn't sure if she should laugh or not.

There was another stretch of awkward silence before Veronica finally stood up. "Well… it's getting late. We ought to go to bed, oughtn't we, Marie? We've got loads of homework to do tomorrow…."

Marie nodded and stood as well. The rest followed suit.

"Coming, Ly?" Aiden asked, sliding over the back of the sofa towards the spiral staircase. He glanced at Lorcan, gazing into the flames. "Er… and Lorcan?"

Lorcan shook his head, slid to the floor and crawled over to the hearth, grabbing a poker. He began prodding the logs to make the fire, which had been dying, spark, and started chanting under his breath. Behind him, Aiden raised his eyebrows at Lysander, who looked a little sheepish.

"I'll come up in a bit," he murmured and Aiden disappeared up the stairs.

Lysander watched his brother chanting beside the fire for a minute before letting out his breath and sliding to the floor beside him.

"You're a bit late if you're looking for emberidian Magcraws," he told Lorcan, referring to a creature that was proving elusive to their parents. "Mum thinks they don't show up past midnight."

Lorcan glanced at the clock above the mantle, but kept up his prodding. "They don't like me," he said rather abruptly.

"Of course they do," Lysander contradicted a little uncomfortably. "They just… haven't gotten used to you yet."

"They laugh at everything I say," Lorcan muttered, driving his poker hard into the fire.

"They laugh at what I say, too," Lysander pointed out.

"It's different. You laugh with them."

"So why don't you?"

"Because it's not _funny_."

"Come on, Lor, you have to admit that some of what Granddad and Mum come out with is ridiculous."

"Maybe it is, but that doesn't mean it's not true!" Lorcan fell silent, biting his lip. "Just… don't try to make them hang out with me, okay? You don't have to feel guilty that I don't have any friends. No one wants me around…. And I can see their point."

"Lorcan, that is not true –" Lysander said indignantly.

"Isn't it, Sander?" Lorcan said dejectedly. "I just cleared out a room in less than five minutes. Face it, your brother's the next Rangy Sage. At least he got to fly at the end of _his _seven years of isolation."

"You are not living in isolation," Lysander insisted. "Not now, not ever. What would _I _do if you cocooned yourself away? _I _want you around. And _I _don't see 'their point'. Why would anybody not want you around?"

Lorcan gave him a long look, then said, gesturing to his wild hat, the wand sticking out from behind his ear, the ink marks across his nose and cheeks, "I'm _weird, _Sander. And I don't know how not to be."

This piece of information did not seem to faze Lysander in the slightest. "Why would you ever try not to be? Everyone's weird, Lor."

"You're not," Lorcan muttered.

Lysander blinked. "Of course I am! I wish I were weirder, actually. Lorcan, not being afraid to think what I think, believing in things, giving everything and every_one _a chance, those are all things I learned from _you_. Because that's what makes you different from everybody else, what makes you 'weird'. If you changed… well, I'd hate to see the you that's here now disappear."

"You'd be one of the only ones," Lorcan said, but he had taken his eyes off the fire to look at his brother. Unconsciously, he turned to face Lysander so that they mirrored each other perfectly, like looking at a reflection.

"So who cares what everyone else thinks," Lysander exclaimed. "That's their problem. If you changed, Lor, it would change me, too. So don't ever change for them. And you're wrong about having no friends. What d'you call me, blockhead?"

He cuffed Lorcan lightly around the ear and Lorcan finally cracked a smile. Simultaneously, they stood, stretched, and headed for the staircase.

"Hey, Sander?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you really mean all that stuff about learning those things from _me_? Or was that just you running your mouth to make me feel better?"

Lysander paused, one foot on the staircase and a thoughtful expression on his face. "I meant it. That's all you, mate."

He flung his arm around Lorcan's shoulders and the pair of them ascended the stairs together.

XxXxX

"Hey, Ly!" Aiden called the next morning when Lysander arrived at the Ravenclaw table. "You've gotta tell Brian that story about the cocoon bloke! He missed it last night."

They were all grouped at the end of the table, Marie and Mickey and Aiden and Veronica with her long, corn silk hair and fluttery smile. All waiting for him to join them expectantly.

"Maybe later," Lysander told Aiden. He grabbed a pile of toast and bacon in a napkin and walked out of the Great Hall.

"Hey."

Lorcan looked up from his breakfast in surprise. "Hey. Where're your friends?"

Lysander sat down beside him and stared interestedly at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. "They're not really my friends until they're your friends. You figured out the tapestry yet?"

Lorcan grinned. "Nope."

"Well, let's get to it, then."

**A/N: So… what did you think? Please review! :) My first shot at Lorcan and Lysander. **


End file.
